


The Hawk That Stops The Tide

by hamlet63



Category: Vinland Saga (Anime), Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Blood and Violence, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Dark Past, Fluff and Angst, Harems, Innocence, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23225797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamlet63/pseuds/hamlet63
Summary: Everything died that afternoon, including a friendship that had been forged in the purity of childhood. The secrets were revealed and each character decided to take a different path, hiding in false personalities.Canute Forkbeard understood that he had to become someone like his father, who was the person that he hated the most.In his teenage years, he will find out that all those secrets hid more than just unknown facts. The young master will understand that even in the recesses of his mind there are those memories that he had with Thorfinn Karlsefni, the only rebellious wave that does not obey his orders, and that would be the most difficult to control in the vast ocean.
Relationships: Askeladd/Bjorn (Vinland Saga), Canute/Thorfinn (Vinland Saga), Full Eyes/Gudrid (Vinland Saga)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. Prologue.

In the sunset that sweetly bathes in auburn sky, where the shadows had hidden behind those gigantic buildings, and where the cars were confused with the singing of the birds, those children, belonging to different families, returned home holding hands after getting off the scholar bus, with a smile hanging on their faces. For Canute, who was eight years old at that time, there was nothing more wondrous in his life than feeling protected by squeezing the hand of Thorfinn, that cheerful and smiling boy who had become a valuable friend to him in such a short time. Although everyone at Misterton Elementary School treated Canute like a girl for his blond hair, delicate skin, and bluish eyes, Thorfinn treated him differently, he was the only one who did not perceive only by appearances, seeing him as an equal.

They were chatting about Miss Wilson, who was their History teacher, because she mispronounced the names of certain Danish kings, which they had read together in the school library. Having broached the subject, they both remembered about the unappetizing lunch that the cafeteria had served at noon, and they laughed at that, paddling the conversation back to the superhero comics Canute returned to Thorfinn that morning. While the two friends were enjoying the “endless” walk, in which they were acting like ordinary children and Canute secretly admired the only one he could call his “friend”, the laughter stopped and some difficult-to listen words left an empty silence.

“Canute, it is time to go down our own roads”.

That voice that tried its best to sound brave, was visibly laced with pain. It was hard to say goodbye, and they both knew it very well. Neither of them wanted to separate. They wanted to be together for more than a single moment, play whenever, and act as if infinity lasted longer than the largest number. However, the reality was stronger than their yearnings, after all they were only two children who had grown fond of each other simultaneously, and back then they thought that there was nothing more important for them than their bond, and eventually they would probably forget after the passing of years.

“Are you sure, Thorfinn? Are you sure you want to say goodbye?”.

But before receiving an answer, Ragnar, who had always approved of their friendship, suddenly appeared and took Canute’s arm, pulling them apart without giving either of them a coherent reason. Before the sudden action, Thorfinn reacted reluctantly and was determined to act without measuring the consequences; however, two men came out of nowhere and held him on both sides, as if they knew in advance what he was willing to do for the well-being of Canute.

“Ragnar, what is happening?” Canute asked, in a voice that was frightened. “Where are you taking me? Why are they holding Thorfinn like that?”.

“Ragnar! What are you doing to Canute?” Thorfinn screamed, struggling and looking for a way to rid himself of his oppressors, who seemed to be good prey for his sharp teeth, which were no longer blunt akin to his younger years. “Leave Canute alone!”.

However, his screams were insufficient to stop what Ragnar planned to do with Canute, because a car horn sounded suddenly, alerting him it was time to leave, and it did not take long for Canute to get into the car, quickly disappearing from the _crime_ scene. Despite the fact that the vehicle was heading directly towards the horizon, Thorfinn kept shouting the name of his friend until the men who were holding him got tired of his kicking and screaming and explained the situation to him, declaring that the young gentleman would be fine as long as he did not speak too much, and if he did it his family would suffer for the results of his actions. After listening them carefully, his bellowing stopped, and he was silent, with a confusion hitting as hard as the sadness that wanted to live inside his heart and wanted to give him an answer that could find the scene previously lived, even if he did not know what was really happening in Canute’s life.

Meanwhile, inside of the car that was still moving towards some specific place, Canute burst into tears, worried about Thorfinn, who surely was distressed and wanted to protect him at all costs. Glancing at Canute, Ragnar instantly understood what he was up to, but he swallowed his words, knowing that he had to act strong in front of the boy, knowing it was the best for him, for _them_.

“Young Forkbeard”, Ragnar emphasizes, trying to avoid Canute’s gaze, “you better stop your tears right now”.

“Why?” Canute asks, feeling as if something was happening within his family and Ragnar did not want to clarify it directly. “Did something happen to my mother?”.

Right after the question left his mouth, Ragnar’s eyes shone, but they did not clarify if it was joy to know that Canute was one of the few who still cared about Mrs. Gunhild, or uneasiness because he did not want to discuss current occurrences with the innocent child who has been taking care of for years, feeling the need to protect him from truths like the one he was about to unveil, and at the same time he did not want to reveal more surprises than needed that would later leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

Ragnar took a deep breath before replying:

“No, young Forkbeard, your mother is as usual, the reason for this unexpected intervention is because your father has requested your presence to have a chat with you”.

And Ragnar was not lying because by looking out of the window, they were indeed traveling towards the forbidden street that led them to _Paris Psalter_ , the company that Sweyn Forkbeard, Canute’s father, ran alongside his partners, the _Jomsvikings_.

“Why?” Canute asked again, playing with his fingers while he bit his lower lip, and tried to evade thinking about his ‘respected’ father. “...did I do something to make him angry?”.

“No, no!” Ragnar interrupted him. “Do not think about it, young Forkbeard! Surely your father wants to congratulate you for getting the highest score on your end-of-cycle evaluations!”.

But, even if he tried to lie to Canute about it, the truth was that Canute was not as ignorant as he appeared, since he knew perfectly well the actions of his father towards him. As it was not the first time that his father required his presence, where he always rebuked and demanded him that he should behave like someone from the high society to which he belonged.

On more than one occasion, Canute came to receive inexhaustible screams from his father that sent him to reflect inside his bedchamber for hours, isolating him and slowly turning him into a child who was afraid to act as one, although, despite that unfortunate mistreatment he had received since he learned the meaning of ‘reason’, Canute always shielded himself under the protection of Thorfinn, the only one who had known how to destroy the wall he had built to protect himself from further damage from his awful family situation.

Unfortunately, what he had protected so much was in danger, and those smiles that had been illuminating the youth of that unhappy child, were about to be extinguished by that warning that should and had to be imposed by Sweyn.

Without foreseeing it, the car stopped at Thonock Park, a place near one of the great wildernesses that Sweyn had bought and that he visited when he was in a good mood with his youngest son.

“We have arrived,” announced the driver who had driven them there.

And Canute had a little hope about it, he knew that his relationship with his father could improve and everything seemed to indicate that nothing could go wrong...but things did not always happen as one hoped even if he prayed to the god who was one he trusted the most.

That evening the scene like others and that happened before and that had been happily stored in the mind of the blue-eyed boy, gave guidelines to highlight a “here and now” in his life, providing a start to the famous _awakening_ of Canute, who was still called Forkbeard back then.


	2. Chapter One.

// _Readily hear my prayer, holy God, observe my prayer with a gracious mind//_

On the way home, Canute didn't say a word about the conversation he had with Sweyn, his father, but instead of that, he was silent, as if a sentence was waiting for him when he opened his mouth. The same happened to Ragnar, who did not deign to speak to him either, but rather he had an idea of the pain that Canute could be bearing on his heavy shoulders. Ragnar understood that the best thing to do was to give him something of space to think, concluding that the remaining path would become taciturn for them. However, to their surprise, it did not take too long to reach the residency where Canute lived. Knowing the wealth that Sweyn had in his bank account, left a lot to be desired in terms of aesthetics.

The hearth consisted of a rough two-story structure that was draped in neutral colors, that also possessed a carnation garden that could easily go unnoticed by passers-by. Even so, the interior of this was the opposite, since it was possible to appreciate Sweyn's refined taste for _grenadillo_ wood furniture, furniture that helped to see a larger space than what appeared with the façade.

After parking, both got out of the car with the same silence that they had loaded all the way, with the darkness crossing the other side of the sky, and with a couple of lights illuminating their solitary silhouette. Analyzing Canute from head to toe, Ragnar concluded that the best thing for him was to return home and let the young man take it easy for the rest of the night.

As he was about to say goodbye to Canute, one of the maids who worked inside the house came out of the small gate and told them that dinner was served. As soon as he heard it, Canute put on a face that gave signs of not wanting to taste a bite of food, but rather wanted to shut himself up in his room so that he could get away from the crowd. However, instead of speaking truthfully, Canute remained silent and pursed his lips so as not to shed tears. He knew that sooner or later he would be discovered by Ragnar, who is the only one that find out most of his concerns without the need to make a big fuss about it.

And as if he had read Canute's mind, Ragnar intervened instantly.

“I think the young master shall appear in the dining room in a little while,” Ragnar replied, glancing at Canute. “The young man had a busy day at school, and he needs a little rest in his room, or am I not right, young Forkbeard?”

After saying that, Ragnar gave him a smile, causing Canute to nod immediately.

“... Ragnar is right” the young man assured so as not to raise any suspicion.

Canute replied and the girl headed towards him with a studied hand gesture, exposing nothing but her obedience.

“As you order, young man,” said the maid, who obeyed the order imposed by Canute and bowed, going directly to report the order assigned to the head of the maidservants.

The moment she disappeared through the front door, Ragnar released a breath and turned to Canute, who was keeping his head down and seemed to be trembling from the commotion that was still circulating within himself. Ragnar approached Canute and tried to look him in the eye.

“He was hard on you, wasn’t he?” Ragnar asked quietly, patting his shoulder as if trying to make him feel better, something that for Canute was almost impossible to achieve when Sweyn had done nothing but reproach him in a bad way. “I cannot imagine how your father sleeps at night knowing the way that he treats his younger son.”

After hearing such words, Canute shrugged and squeezed his chest tighter, sensing that tears would roll down his cheeks any second. Canute wanted that anguish to disappear. He felt fear and regret since he could not escape the tidal wave of thoughts that collided inside his head; Canute believed that something must end soon. And amid that jumble of colors, a face was shown into his mind unconsciously. Thorfinn, _Thorfinn Karlsefni_. The pain he had been enduring for so long tore into an incessant cry that imitated the waves that come and go, turning everything around him into a cloudy gray.

Suddenly, Canute turned to Ragnar and took him between his wrists, embedding his nails into the skin while he crumbled in blue sadness, as if his life was saying goodbye to his own body just by thinking about his misery.

“F-Father in Heaven ...” he cleared his throat, his voice hoarse and weak. “... if you find yourself out there, I implore you ... Thorfinn ... yes, Thorfinn ... I-I need to see Thorfinn one more time...”

What Ragnar's eyes witnessed was nameless. In that small space where their feet were prostrated, the young master was there, pleading for a little air, for a show of compassion. The agony was suffocating him in sorrows that at his young age he did not know how to carry out. Canute was touching the depths of his sea.

Before wrong hands got in the way, Ragnar walked towards him, and without an explanation took Canute by the hand. They entered the Forkbeard dwelling, ignoring the call of the maidservants, who seemed to be concerned for the little one. Ragnar led them up the stairs, and as they were in front of Canute's room, the eldest raised a small prayer, one that begged to save the infant he loved so much that very night. After that, they both entered the room and closed the door behind them. Ragnar was determined to do the impossible for the sake of Canute.

“I shall be back, young master” Ragnar professed, swallowing his anguish so as not to afflict Canute anymore. “Please, wait for me.”

Instead of using verbal words, Canute responded by kneeling on his bed, gazing towards nothing -an act very characteristic of him, which told the older man that he would be a good boy and would not go anywhere. Ragnar went down to the kitchen and explained the situation to the maidservants, Canute could not even explain his own ailment. Words that Sweyn had said embedded deep into him, and he did not know how to bring them out.

After several minutes, his crying deliberately slowed down, and his reddish gaze - due to so much sobbing - managed to capture an unusual photo that stood out among all the artifacts that were around it. That face, that sweet smile...both characteristics softened his eyes, which carried that summery aroma full of ephemeris and short-term memories. By stressing it, Canute convinced himself that he wanted to see Thorfinn to tell him that everything would be fine if they stayed together, but he knew very well that reality was different, and that promise was nothing but a fantasy. However, that promise was the only thing that managed to keep him sane and afloat.

Out of nowhere, someone knocked on his door and Ragnar appeared immediately, with two cups tea on a silver tray. Ragnar offered one of these to Canute and he agreed, leaving his cup lightly on the nightstand while the older one waited for an answer. Looking at the situation they found themselves in, the young master did not hesitate to express what was weighing his heart so much, a sure look in his blue eyes.

“Alright, I shall talk.”

* * *

He had turned on the television to tune into the local news channel. A radiant and hot day was forecast, but at the same time a cold front was approaching in the early hours of the night, a rather peculiar climate in Gainsborough. After hearing that, Ragnar celebrated his victory as he took another sip of his coffee. He planned to visit _Costa Coffee_ with the young master after school since Canute loved ordering its famous Belgian Chocolate _Frostino_ and its Millionaire’s Shortbread every time they visited it. That excited Ragnar since he wanted to eat outside with Canute while they had a reading session. Canute loved going into reading, preferably, about some Viking saga of his liking.

Ragnar generally loves spending time near the boy, who reflects calm and serenity. Thanks to such qualities, Canute was learning to cook at the expense of his teachings, an activity which allowed them to visit the market gardens more often, especially at harvest time.

After finishing his coffee, Ragnar moved to a separate room to converse with one of the butlers in his charge. They were talking about the things that had to be done before the young man returned from school, when suddenly the landline phone rang, emitting an unusual echo that could only mean one thing. Problems in the _vast universe_. Whenever the phone rang, half of the world was afraid to answer the line since nobody except _him_ called to the residence. Every time he made a call, he did nothing but report news that was not pleasant for anyone.

Ragnar made his way to the house room, picked up the phone, and courteously greeted. Instead of a reasonable response, Ragnar heard a shaky breath on the other end of the line, as if it were thirsty of blood. The murmur was noticed after a while, causing the unknowns around Ragnar to increase in a confused, hysterical and curious way. The scenario only caused anxiety for everyone present, including the one who had lit hell.

“ _Ragnar,_ ” spoke a harsh and dry voice after several attempts. Ragnar's response was instantaneous, but he had to wait another couple of seconds for Sweyn to reply. “ _How nice to find you on the other end of the line in such an exquisite afternoon, Ragnar! So, tell me, how are you feeling today?_ ”

That question, as rhetorical as life itself, made some drops of sweat slide over Ragnar’s forehead, making him hold his breath for more than a minute. It was such a cordial and poisonous question that Ragnar did not know how to answer, but even so, he managed to find strength within himself to face it.

“... well, I am in a good condition, thank you, my lord” Ragnar pronounced, with fear running through his veins. “Surely everything is as you left it last time.”

Unfortunately, a gnashing of Sweyn’s teeth was enough to imply that it was not the expected answer, much less the most consistent. Due to that usual pause, the room froze completely, and a shiver ran through the Ragnar’s body. He waited uneasily for his boss to explode, knowing that Sweyn had no intention of hiding his true self.

“ _Seriously?_ ” Sweyn replied after remaining silent, his voice so feigned and full of deleterious charm. “ _I should not be surprised, after all I left my son in your charge._ ”

“Well, I appreciate it, my lord Forkbeard, I try to demonstrate that every day” Ragnar expressed, with a sneaky staggering in his words.

Laughter from Sweyn was swift, echoing gracelessly and without an iota of order, as if what Ragnar had said was a wild mockery. The conversation did not seem to go anywhere encouraging.

“ _By the way,_ ” Sweyn recalled, changing the tone of his voice to a friendlier one “ _the reason for my call is because I need you in my office right now._ ”

“May I know the reason?” Ragnar hastened to ask. “Remember that today is school day, and that implies that I have to pick up Canute from school.”

Silence reappeared and filled the room with a dim atmosphere, with mocking laughter becoming a dull judgment.

“ _Now!_ ” Sweyn roared as Ragnar heard the gnashing of his teeth. “ _You'll take care of that brat later._ ”

“E-excuse me, my lord?”

“ _I said what I said, and that is an order!_ ”

The desire to do and undo with Sweyn was incredibly overflowing, but instead of exploding, Ragnar swallowed such expletives since he knew that Canute would be in danger if he did not control himself. Furthermore, by returning to his father's house, Canute would receive more of his nonsense scolding, and the older did not want that. Ragnar felt that it was his responsibility to protect the child since the heir to Paris Psalter, Sweyn's company, was none other than his son Harald, who was studying Economics abroad, so there was no reason for Canute to be involved in their drama.

Ragnar took a deep breath knowing that he had to take a decision for the welfare of Canute.

“Okay, my lord, as you order. I will be there as soon as possible.”

And the call ended without a proper farewell, with Ragnar trembling with dread and irritation. Ragnar knew that Sweyn was not a fool since he sensed that something lay hidden from his eyes, and Sweyn was going to discover it even if that required coldly calculated measures.

* * *

The ray of sunlight that radiated at three o'clock only weakened the skin of the those who sat continually by the window. That unfortunate one was Ragnar, who did not stop moving desperately on the wooden chair, which was aimed strictly at the sun and kept burning between its embers. Sweyn did nothing but raise his hand, so one of his maids appeared from behind instantly, pouring plum tea on the cups that were resting on the table that separated them. Ragnar gulped and tried to be calm, but it was impossible for him to do it since Sweyn studied each of his movements, as if he suspected even from his most loyal servant.

“Well” Sweyn said, sipping from his mug. “Tell me, Ragnar, do you know of anything that I do not know yet?”

Inside Ragnar's mind, there were only sarcastic answers about it. He wanted to make fun of that obvious and hollow question. However, he knew that it was impossible to say it since there was no human alive that had stood in front of Sweyn without the fear of dying in his hands, and Ragnar did not want to be the first one to suffer that fate.

“No, my lord, there is nothing that I do not report to your office.”

“Are you sure, Ragnar? Could it be that you are lying to me?”

“No, my lord, I would not dare to perform such sacrilege!”

Both looks, so full of uncertainties, did not falter for several minutes, spreading a tension that Ragnar was sure would soon take its toll. Sweyn closed his eyes and made a slightly move of his fingers, where one of his bodyguards appeared immediately, carrying a white envelope that he handed to Sweyn, who scattered the information on the table. Ragnar's eyes were surprised and confused, while his consequent did nothing but gnash his teeth, showing more than annoyance.

“Wh-what is this?”

“I’ll ask again" Sweyn interrupted, frowning. Do _you_ know of anything that _I_ don't know?”

“B-but, my lord...?”

“ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION, RAGNAR.”

However, Ragnar did not know exactly what to say because he was amazed at what Sweyn had brought to his feet. A part of him wanted to cry. He felt hopeless, as if an important part of his soul had been ripped from him and it had collapsed for not being in one piece. Ragnar reached out slowly and picked up one of the items, wanting to squeeze it against his chest. The smile that was drawn with total sincerity contained the impulse he needed to confront Sweyn.

“Yes, my lord, I taught the young master how to cook.”

After listening to him, Sweyn laughed without a hint of grief, holding his face with one of his hands, while with his other hand he was calling for a glass of _Balkan 176_.

“And could I know the reason why you did that, Ragnar?”

“... my lord, I do not seek to offend you, but why should there be reasons for the young man to cook? Do you not consider it necessary for him to learn such an appreciated activity?”

All Ragnar heard was the sound of glass breaking a few inches from his side, with a broken window and goblet, its pieces scattered among the grass outside.

“Don't make me laugh, Ragnar” spat Sweyn, who was holding one of the photographs that he had thrown on the table. “I know very well that Canute is a naive child with an appearance of a damsel in distress, but to the misfortune of this family, our blood keeps running through his veins, so as long as that keeps happening, I will not allow him to stain our name by doing such vulgar acts.”

“B-but...”

“DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO SPEAK?” Sweyn expressed, exalting himself as he walked straight towards Ragnar, who he grabbed by the collar of his shirt once they were close to each other. “MAY IT BE THE LAST TIME YOU DISRESPECT ME SO PEDESTRE. THAT ALSO INCLUDES MY FAMILY. I DON'T WANT TO FIND OUT THAT THAT BRAT IS THERE DOING SUCH RIDICULOUS THINGS, OTHERWISE I...”

However, before Sweyn finished his sentence, Ragnar threw himself into the ground to beg since he knew in advance the approach that was coming.

“Please, my lord! I beg you! Do not touch the young master, he does not deserve such punishment from his own father!”

The laughter spread throughout the room, laughter that entertained itself with the pain of others. Sweyn laughed until he was short of breath.

“Oh, dear Ragnar! You know that it is inevitable not to put that boy in his place, don't you think? After all, that may be the only way for him to understand my advice.”

Ragnar felt that he was about to perish in that room where he seemed to be the jester of the party, and where he considered Death as his friend, the one who planned to guide him to the Hereafter that he imagined so much. Sweyn pulled away from Ragnar and wiped his hands, as if they had become dusty. Sweyn walked a little and looked at the broken window, inhaling the air that was approaching him from the hole that he had caused. He hoped for that one word that would awaken him, and that Ragnar would face him furiously for once in his life. Nevertheless, his own desires lacked fulfillment, and the only thing that remained in him was the urge to forge even more opportunities, where the bet of playing god was still in game.

After such monologue, Sweyn turned to Ragnar and looked at him with satisfaction:

“Ragnar, I think you are right, I should act as an exemplary father, so I want you to invite Canute to my office, I am sure he misses me as much as I miss him!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, this is the author. Well, I just want to say thank you to those who follow this fic. To be honest with you this is my first time writing something that is in English and also on AO3 so I hope the language barrier would not be a problem for you! Also, I want to say that I am working in the next chapter so I hope I can post it as soon as I can. Finally, I want to add that I am someone who likes the story to have a slow pace, so I hope you can be patients and can see as much hints as possible because everything here would be important in future chapters!  
> Thank you! See you in the next chapter!


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